Angels and Damon
by BlueScarfGirl
Summary: Damon, killed by the Winchester brothers, is brought back by an Angel of the Lord. Damon/Castiel. Some Elena/Dean.
1. Angel of the Lord

It's the smell that wakes him. It's a bit like rotting leaves, grime and dirt. A stale smell that, had he been human, would have made him cough. Groaning and rolling his head to the side, Damon opens his eyes. There's nothing but darkness. _Weird,_ he thinks. After all, he can usually see perfectly fine at night. He tries to sit up, but he immediately bashes his head against something hard.

_"Damn it," _he hisses, lying back down and rubbing his forehead. After a few seconds, he raises his hands experimentally to find that he can touch the ceiling. He extends his arms to his sides, and they bump against two walls. He hesitates. _I'm in a coffin. _He sighs audibly. _Well,_ he thinks,_ this sucks. _

He thumps his fist against the top of his coffin, expecting the lid to fly open. Instead, it splinters and his fist hits concrete. He hisses again as blood runs from his rapidly-healing knuckles. He feels the top of the coffin where his fist broke through. He tears at the wood, widening the hole. Then, he slips his hands through the hole to the concrete ceiling. With gritted teeth, he pushes upward with all his strength. There is a grinding sound as he slides the concrete slate off. It crashes to the ground.

Dim light floods through, and Damon is able to maneuver himself up and out through the hole in the lid of the coffin. Looking around, Damon realizes that his coffin was encased in a cement sarcophagus, and there are other tombs along the wall. There are also hundreds of dead and half-dead blooms cluttering the base of his tomb. He recognizes where he is; in fact, he knows the place well. The Salvatore crypt.

He assumes that Stefan's played a remarkably _un_-hilarious joke on him, and he brushes the dust from the sleeves of his leather jacket. He vows vengeance. Well, as soon as he finds something to eat. Unfortunately, he is halfway out of the crypt before he realizes something important: he's not wearing his ring.

The sunlight hits him with full force, and the skin on his face cracks and burns. He flashes backwards, falling onto his butt in the safety of the crypt. He jumps to his feet and throws his hands down furiously. _"You've got to be _kidding _me, Stefan," _he roars into the cemetery. There is no reply. But then, he wasn't expecting one.

He looks down and notices a tear in his shirt. "Really?" he says, annoyed. "As if my day wasn't shitty enough." He examines the small hole in the fabric; it's positioned directly over his heart and the cloth around it is stained with long-dried blood. It's almost as if…

"You were shot."

Damon spins around in surprise. A man in a suit and trench coat stands before him; his blue tie hangs loosely from his neck, and he has an overall disheveled appearance about him. The man's face is completely deadpan.

Damon shifts on his feet, looking around. There's no way the man could have slipped into the crypt without Damon noticing. Unless the man had already been there. "And who are you?" Damon asks, narrowing his eyes.

"My name is Castiel," the man replies hoarsely. "I am an Angel of the Lord."

Damon stares at him for a few moments. Then, Damon throws his head back and laughs humorlessly. "Man," he says, shaking his head and wiping his eyes. "I'm going to _kill _Stefan."

Castiel scrunches his eyebrows together and tilts his head to the side. "Stefan…" he says slowly. "He's your brother."

"Of course he's my brother," Damon snaps. "And from now on, he should leave the pranking to me. He never was good at it." He extends his hand, palm-up, to Castiel. "Now, about my ring. Cough it up. Can't be stuck in here all day; I've got to go do the naughty with a hottie." Damon wriggles his fingers insistently.

Castiel squints his eyes. "With your brother," he clarifies.

"With my – What?" Damon splutters. "No, with _Elena_." Damon stares. "Where in the hell did Stefan find you?"

"I'm not from Hell, and Stefan didn't find me," Castiel replies calmly. "My orders come from those much higher up and a lot less demonic than any vampire."

_"Demonic?" _Damon repeats, raising his eyebrows. "You sure know how to make friends." When Castiel doesn't reply, Damon slowly begins to circle him. "Alright," he finally says, stopping. He hops on top of a closed sarcophagus, his legs dangling over the side. "I'll bite. Where do your orders come from, then, Mr. _Angel of the Lord_? No, wait." Damon holds up a finger. "Let me guess." He pretends to think. "Oh, gee, what's the name of that guy…You know, the big guy? White, flowing robes. Kind of judgy. Knocked up a virgin. Lives upstairs. I just can't seem to remember his name…"

Castiel hesitates. "God?"

Damon snaps his fingers. "_That's _it." He grins apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, Cassy. Sometimes it's hard for me to keep my angelic, otherworldly beings straight because I'm, you know, _demonic _and all."

"My apologies if I have offended you," says Castiel. "I was unaware that I could hurt a vampire's feelings."

"Well, we can put this all behind us if you just _give me my ring back_." Damon, once more, holds out his hand. He glares at Castiel.

"I didn't take your ring," Castiel says. "I am not associated with your brother; I am here on my own accord to fix a mistake."

"A mistake?" Damon slides off the sarcophagus of a dead ancestor and slinks up to Castiel. Then, Damon flashes forward, slamming Castiel against the wall of the crypt. The man in the trench coat remains motionless as Damon lowers his mouth to the man's neck. With his lips a mere inch from Castiel's skin, Damon stops and whispers, "I strongly suggest you hand over my ring before _I _make a mistake."

Castiel pushes Damon off of him, and Damon is thrown across the room, his back colliding with the far wall. Damon groans as he crumples to his knees. After all, he's weak and starving for blood.

"Perhaps you should abandon your attempts to threaten me," says Castiel slowly as he walks towards Damon, "and listen. You were shot and killed, and I brought you back."

"News flash, angel cakes, I can't be killed with a gun," Damon says, aching as he climbs to his feet. He glares at Castiel. "And you just pissed me off."

Castiel ignores this. "Three months ago," he says, "some…friends of mine came to Mystic Falls about a vampire problem."

"Oh?"

"They had a weapon with them. The Colt."

Damon rolls his eyes. "And who were these friends of yours?"

"The Winchester brothers."

Damon freezes. Something in his mind clicks, and the memories start flooding back. He remembers the brothers. The tall one, Sam, tried to stake him. As punishment, Damon sank his teeth into the man's neck to drain him of his blood. There'd been a noise behind Damon, and when Damon turned, the crack of a gun sounded and Damon was suddenly lying on the ground, eyeballs-up to the ceiling.

"Dean Winchester shot you with the Colt," says Castiel, confirming Damon's memories. "Only, it was a mistake." Castiel hesitates. "Dean didn't know you were a good man."

Damon smirks. "Can't say I blame him. _I _didn't even know that."

Castiel grabs Damon by the collar of his jacket. "Understand this, vampire," says Castiel, so close to Damon that their noses are nearly touching. "I've been commanded by my superiors to stay out of any direct contact with the Winchesters because where Sam and Dean are concerned, rational thought tends to fail me." Castiel sounds bitter. "But you can help me." Castiel releases the collar of Damon's jacket. "Your brother has been holding the Winchesters captive for months now. As I am forbidden from interfering, you're going to convince Stefan to release Dean and Sam."

"If God forbade you from interfering, then how were you able to save me from, you know, being dead and all?" Damon asks, his voice heavy with sarcasm. He is still in disbelief that an angel, a real _angel_, would come to his aid.

"It was a loophole," says Castiel. "I was able to save you because you were never supposed to die, at least not for a second time. Believe it or not, vampire, the Lord sees good in you. I was given permission to bring you back because He has plans for you. Only, those plans don't include the Winchesters. Which brings me back to the fact that I saved your life, and that you are going to repay me by releasing my friends."

Damon gets in Castiel's face and breathes, "Or _what?_"

"Or you'll be hearing from me again." There is the sound of fluttering wings, and Castiel vanishes, leaving Damon alone with the dead in the Salvatore crypt.

xxx

**So, obviously, I plan to continue this. That being said, tell me what you think. I'll try to update as frequently as I can. Thanks for reading. **


	2. Three Embraces

All is quiet at the Salvatore residence. Damon crosses the threshold to his home and stands in the foyer. The lamps are all lit, and warm yellow light floods across the floor. Damon takes a step into the living room, listening.

"Stefan?" There is no reply. _"Oh, Stefannnn,"_ Damon calls in a sing-song voice. Still nothing. He shrugs and makes his way to the basement. He is more interested in getting a snack than catching up with his brother anyway.

Damon opens the lid to the horizontal refrigerator. There are only two bags of blood left. "Whoa," he says, bending over to pick them up. _Someone's been hitting the juice._ He tears one of the bags open and begins drinking out of it. He closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure. He feels the life slowly returning to his body.

A groan comes from one of the nearby cells. Damon slowly lowers the blood bag and wipes his mouth. "Stefan?" he asks again. He walks away from the fridge and peeks through the bars of one of the cells.

The Winchesters, both of them, are chained to the wall. The tall one, Sam, is passed out, and the shorter guy, Dean, is half-awake with his head lolling against his own shoulder. Both are beaten, bruised, and filthy. Dean coughs and bloody spittle runs down his chin.

"Huh," says Damon, mildly interested. He unlatches the door to the cell and strolls in. He crouches down next to Sam and takes a drink from his second blood bag. Damon flicks Sam's forehead. There is no response.

Damon turns to assess Dean next. Dean's eyes flutter behind swollen lids. Damon can tell that Dean is trying to focus, but can't. Sighing, Damon lifts Dean's chin with his index finger. The man finally opens his eyes.

Dean coughs a bit as he tries to talk. After a few moments of struggling, he manages to murmur, "Didn't…I kill you?"

"Yeah," says Damon cheerfully. "Oops."

There isn't a sound behind Damon, but somehow he senses his brother's presence. Sure enough, a voice asks, "Damon?"

Damon doesn't turn around to face Stefan. Instead, he takes a long drink from his blood bag until it makes a satisfying slurping sound. Then, Damon says, "Been keeping busy, I take it?" He glances over his shoulder.

Stefan stands in the doorway. Aside from his bewildered eyes, his face is deadpan. He takes a step forward and stops. "You're supposed to be dead."

"It's good to see you, too, Brother," Damon replies as he smoothly stands up. He squeezes out the last drop of the blood bag into his mouth before crumpling the plastic up and tossing it on the floor. An awkward silence falls between the Salvatore brothers, so Damon clears his throat and thumbs at the captives. "Does, uh, Elena know about this?"

"Elena doesn't come here anymore," says Stefan.

Damon smiles. "That isn't an answer."

Stefan stares at Damon a few moments before rushing at him and embracing him. Damon does not return the hug; he keeps his arms firmly at his sides. Stefan suddenly pulls away. "You're supposed to be _dead_, Damon." Stefan points at the Winchesters. "This is their punishment. How can you be…How are you alive?"

Damon's smile flickers. "You've been keeping them here because of me? Because they killed me?" Damon puts his hand over his heart. "Aww," he says. "I'm touched."

"Damon," says Stefan, scowling.

"Alright, _alright_." Damon sighs. "Apparently, God has a _thing_ for me. Long story short, those two need to be released."

"What?"

"I _know_," says Damon, rolling his eyes. "It's weird, right? You're here torturing humans for fun, and I want to spare them. Something must be wrong with the universe."

"They killed you, Damon, and you want me to let them go?"

"Better yet," says Damon, "I want you to heal them first. I'll even help." Damon bites his wrist until his own blood is flowing between his lips. Then, he crouches down and offers his bleeding wrist to Dean. Dean drinks the blood hungrily, and the cuts on his face slowly seal up to faint pink scars.

"I don't understand," says Stefan.

"No," says Damon, his eyes flashing, "_I_ don't understand. What the hell is this? I die and you go off the rails? I'm surprised the Winchesters aren't just a pile of mangled body parts."

"I'm not off the rails," says Stefan, crossing his arms. "I haven't killed anyone."

Damon points at the empty blood bag on the ground. "You've been going through those like hotcakes. The fridge is empty. You can lie to me all you want, Stefan, but I'm not an idiot. I know it's not bunny blood you're burping."

"I'm fine," Stefan insists.

"Prove it," says Damon. "Let the Winchesters go. As you can see, I'm alive and well. You've got no reason to keep stabbing them with hot pokers, as fun of a pastime that may be."

Stefan glances at the Winchesters. "I will," he says. He sighs. "Yeah. Of course I will."

Damon's mouth twitches. "Good." He turns to the door. He stops. "Oh, and do you know what happened to my ring? I was stuck in that crypt for hours. I was _so _bored."

Stefan looks down at his feet. "Elena has it."

Damon frowns a little, but says nothing to this. Then, he slowly turns away and exits the cell. "Be back soon, Brother," he says as he leaves.

Although the sun had long since dipped down below the horizon, the sky is still pale with dying rays. Damon keeps his eyes upturned to the sky as he walks. He tries to remember more details about his death, but they all seem to be a little fuzzy. He can't remember his afterlife, or if he even had one. He can't imagine that he would have been accepted into Heaven as a vampire, but perhaps when vampires die, their human souls are judged. Damon laughs at the thought. _No_, he thinks. _If I was anywhere, I was most definitely in Hell._

On his way to Elena's, Damon walks by the cemetery. He glances across the tops of the headstones in hopes that he'd see his angel "friend," but the cemetery is empty. Well, mostly empty. Walking quietly between the graves is a girl with long dark hair, and in her hands is a small bouquet of wildflowers.

Damon stops in his tracks to watch Elena. She pauses by the headstones of her family, but she doesn't put any flowers down. Instead, she leaves her family plot and heads straight for the Salvatore crypt. Damon, sighing, silently follows her. He comes to a halt in the doorway to the crypt; Elena stands before him with her back to him, still clutching the flowers. She's staring at the broken cement sarcophagus lid and the splintered coffin.

Frowning, Damon looks at all the dead blooms surrounding the base of his tomb; he disregarded them before, but now they make sense. They were all from Elena.

"Flowers?" Damon asks lightly. "Really?"

She spins towards him, terrified.

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Just me," he says. "Surprise."

She drops the flowers, and they scatter at her feet: red and gold. Damon glances at the flowers and then looks back at Elena; his eyes flick to her throat where his ring is hanging from a chain. "Why aren't you d-dead?" she splutters.

"Gee," says Damon. "Can't anyone just say, 'Hey, Damon. Good to have you back'?"

"I don't get it," Elena says. "Was it a spell? Did Bonnie d-do something?"

Damon puts his hands on her shoulders. "Relax," he says. "I'm back. It's me. I'm a little iffy on the details, but I'm five-hours-alive and feeling great." He snaps the chain from her neck and slips the ring on his finger. "I've been looking for this."

"You've been back for _five _hours?" Elena demands. "And you didn't call me?"

Damon drops his hands and rolls his eyes. "Good to know some things haven't changed. As soon as I waltz back into your life, you're up in arms and attacking me."

"I'm not attacking you," she says. "I'm really happy to see you. I just…I can't believe it, Damon." Her face crumples.

"Wait…" says Damon uneasily. "No, stop. What are you doing?"

She looks away from him.

"Are you…Are you _crying?_" Damon asks, disgusted. He grabs her shoulders again, forcing her to face him. "You _are_ crying."

She beats on his chest with her fists. "Shut up, Damon," she says, tears streaming down her face. "I thought I'd never see you again. And when you died, Stefan changed. H-He's lost it, Damon. He's completely gone. It was l-like both of you died that night. And now I have y-you back." She drops her fists and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so glad I have you back."

Damon cradles Elena, not really sure what to do. Damon can't be certain if Elena is more pleased to see him because she missed him or because she now knows there is a chance that Stefan can be saved. Forcing those thoughts aside, Damon strokes her hair comfortingly. Their embrace is short-lived.

With the sound of fluttering wings, a man appears beside them. Damon and Elena break apart. Castiel seems to have a complete disregard for personal space because he stands so close to Damon that he's breathing on his neck.

"Angel," Damon says by way of greeting.

"Vampire," Castiel replies, the word tickling Damon's ear.

Elena looks startled. "Who is he?" she asks. She wipes the remaining tears from her cheeks.

"My name is Castiel," Castiel begins dramatically. "I am an Angel of the – "

"Lord," Damon finishes. He gives Castiel a look. "It was annoying enough the first time."

Castiel frowns. A long silence follows.

"So," says Damon casually, crossing his arms, "how's the family? I hope you told God I said hello."

"Why would I – ?" Castiel begins before cutting himself off. "Oh," he says. "You're partaking in human sarcasm. You should know that I've become better at detecting it since meeting Dean. He, additionally, finds joy in making jokes at my expense."

"You're an angel?" Elena asks. "Is that even possible?"

"Apparently," says Damon, looking Castiel over.

Something seems to click with Elena because, suddenly, her dark eyes widen. She stares at Castiel. "Did you…Were you the one who brought Damon back?"

"Indeed," the angel replies. "It was a part of my plan to – "

Castiel is unable to finish his sentence as Elena has rushed at him and thrown her arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you," she says to him.

Castiel looks constipated by this turn of events. He pats the top of her head awkwardly. "You're…welcome, human child. Unfortunately, your vampire friend's return is brief, considering he hasn't held up his end of the bargain."

"What are you _talking _about?" Damon demands. "I saw Stefan. He said he'd release them. I did what you asked."

"He lied," says Castiel. "The Winchesters are still being held captive."

"Stefan's been imprisoning those two hunters?" Elena asks.

Damon puts a hand up to the side of his mouth and whispers, "He's been a little _naughty_."

"An understatement," says Castiel. He glares at Damon. "Return to the Salvatore Boarding House and free the Winchesters, or…this human dies." He quickly grabs Elena's upper arm and makes a face so menacing that Damon can't help but laugh.

"You're terrible at this," says Damon, though he instinctively yanks Elena away from Castiel. "What's so special about Sam and Dean, anyway? Who are they, your butt buddies?"

"Our butts are unacquainted," Castiel replies impassively. He takes a step forward. "Besides, my relationship with the Winchester brothers is irrelevant. All you need to know is that they are important to me, and if they are not released, you will regret it." Castiel is so close to Damon that he can count each of the angel's eyelashes. "My threats may be poorly executed, Vampire, but do not assume for one second that they are empty." And with that, Castiel grabs Elena's arm and vanishes.

xxx

**Ahhh. Cas is a badass. **

**And since crossovers aren't as popular, please please please review if you're reading. **


	3. Fickle

Castiel appears outside of the Salvatore Boarding House, still clutching the girl's arm. He stares stonily at the house's darkened windows. The girl struggles to get out of his grip – she even rakes her fingernails along the skin on his hand. Castiel takes no notice of this.

"What just happened?" she asks, squirming. "Who _are _you?"

"Quiet," he commands, not taking his eyes from the front door of the house. He waits for several minutes before there's any movement. It's dark now, but the darkness does not prevent Castiel from seeing Damon, the vampire, slink out of the shadows and up to the front door. The vampire's hands are balled into fists, and the door slams shut behind him.

"What's going on?" she asks, this time more desperately.

"You're my leverage," says Castiel, still staring at the house. He finally drags his eyes away to look at the girl. He squints at her. "I'm curious…" he begins. "Why do you associate with these vampires? You're human. You understand what they can do to you."

She scowls at him. "The last thing I need," she says, "is to be lectured by an angel." She wrenches her arm from him, and Castiel purposely lets her go. She falls backwards onto her butt with an _oomf_.

Castiel crouches down next to her. "I know there is good in the Salvatores, as their names are often spoken by my brothers." His lips purse for a few moments before continuing. "I also understand the concept of loving a lesser being." An image of Dean Winchester appears in his mind; he quickly forces it aside. "Despite this, I warn you against pursuing their friendship any further. It will only lead to your destruction."

If the girl is frightened by this information, she doesn't show it. Instead, her mouth tightens and she hisses, "The difference between us is that _I _don't think of Damon or Stefan as lesser beings."

Castiel stares at her a few moments. Then, he says, "You should." He touches her forehead with two fingers and she falls limp in the dark grass. He straightens up and watches the sleeping girl. There is something strange about her. She's human, of course, but also something not-so-human. He reminds himself to look into it, as he knows there are other angels keeping tabs on Mystic Falls.

The front door opens again and Damon walks out dragging an unconscious Sam on the floor by an arm; Dean, meanwhile, is slumped over Damon's shoulder. Castiel instinctively takes a step forward to help, but stops himself. He must not interfere.

Damon continues dragging Sam out onto the grass. He halts and shrugs Dean off of his shoulder, slamming the hunter down onto the ground. "Alright," Damon calls, extending his arms challengingly. "I've got your pets, Cassy. Come and get'em." Damon spins in a circle, looking for Castiel. Suddenly, they lock eyes. Damon smirks. "There you are." Damon's gaze drops to the grass where the girl is sprawled out at Castiel's feet.

The vampire flashes forward and grabs Castiel by the collar, though the angel manages to stay upright. _"What did you do to Elena?"_ Damon snarls. _"I'll rip your fucking head off."_

"She's sleeping," says Castiel, unconcerned.

Damon stares at him before roughly releasing him and kneeling down beside Elena. "For your sake, I hope so," says Damon, lifting the girl's head. He looks up at Castiel. "The Winchesters are fine. I healed their wounds with my blood. Had to knock them out so they wouldn't, you know, _kill me_. Again."

Castiel walks over to the Winchesters. They're both out cold. "Your blood," Castiel muses. "They need to go somewhere safe. I won't have them turning into…" Castiel stops himself and looks over his shoulder at Damon.

Damon rolls his eyes. "You can say it. _Dirty, stinkin' vampires._ I'm aware of what people think of us. Or, uh, in your case, _angels._" He connects his hands together in a circle over his head as if he's wearing a halo.

Castiel hesitates. "Thank you," he says.

Damon is too slow to hide his surprise. He lowers his hands, a strange look on his face; he seems to be struggling in coming up with something witty to say. Finally, he forfeits. "Whatever." He clears his throat. "The Gilberts'. We can take the Winchesters there. When the vampire blood is out of their systems, they can be on their merry way. Back to killing innocents."

If Castiel were the type of being inclined to smile, he would do so now. "I hardly think you're innocent, Vampire." He turns and crouches down beside the Winchesters. Although the Winchesters have angelic runes on their ribs that allow them to be hidden from angels, Castiel was able to find Sam and Dean through their prayer. Looking at Dean, Castiel sighs. He cannot touch either of them; he knows this. For Castiel has his own angelic rune, forced upon him by his brothers in Heaven; if he so much lays a finger on the Winchesters, the angels will know about it. If this happens, Castiel will be plucked from Earth and forced to live out a prison sentence in Heaven.

He shouldn't even be here.

"You're not exactly rainbows and butterflies either, Angel," Damon replies smoothly from behind him. "Taking a human hostage? Don't tell me that's the norm in Heaven."

"Angels are remarkably indifferent to the lives of humans," says Castiel, looking at Dean. Dean's lips are slightly parted, and his chest rises and falls with each breath.

"Oh, but _you_ aren't," says Damon.

"How could you tell?" Castiel asks bitterly.

Damon lets out a surprised _ha_. "The angel makes jokes now."

Castiel ignores this. "Take the Winchesters to safety. Keep them from turning into vampires."

"And in return…?" Damon raises his eyebrows.

"Perhaps I can do something to help your brother."

xxx

Dean is sprawled out on the Gilberts' couch. Sam is on the floor. Elena, now fully alert, paces the living room. She glares at Damon. "Will you stop that? It's annoying."

For the past half hour, Damon's been sitting on the coffee table with a large box of goldfish crackers, casually tossing as many goldfish as he can into Dean's open mouth. So far, Damon's only missed twice – a feat that he's rather proud of.

"Fine," says Damon, lowering the box. "I'll stop throwing _crackers_ at the man who succeeded in _killing_ me."

"It was an accident," says Elena.

Damon gapes at her. "How is pointing a weirdo, vampire-killing gun at someone and pulling the trigger an accident? What if I were to rip his throat out? Does that count as an accident too? I was _dead_. You _do_ realize that, don't you? It's not like I was on vacation in Bermuda."

"He didn't know you were good," says Elena, sighing.

"Good?" asks Damon. _What does that even mean? _"When he wakes up, Elena, he's not going to have some grand epiphany and suddenly think the sun shines out my ass. Mark my words, if he so much looks at me funny, I'll – "

Dean jerks awake on the couch. Instantly, he chokes on a mouthful of goldfish and leans forward, spraying Damon in the face with orange crumbs and saliva. Damon, wiping his face, stares at the hunter with dead eyes.

"Damon, _don't_," Elena warns. She sits beside Dean. "How are you feeling?"

Dean, his mouth still half-full of goldfish, chews thoughtfully. "Hungry," he finally says. He swallows. His eyes fall on Damon's box of goldfish. "Hey, man," says Dean, "gimme those."

Damon hugs the box to his chest. "Nope. They're mine."

"Dude. Really?" Dean raises his eyes from the goldfish box to Damon's face. Realization sets in. _"You."_

Damon smirks.

Dean lunges off of the couch to tackle Damon, but Damon easily scoots to the left and Dean crashes into the coffee table. Damon sighs and gives Elena a weary look. "See? I told you so."

Dean slowly gets to his feet, using the table to support his weight. He looks over his shoulder at Damon. "How are you still alive? The Colt had to've killed you."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Dean," says Damon. _"It did."_ Damon crosses his arms. "Apparently, you've got friends in high places." He pauses. "Literally. Your angel buddy brought me back so I could save you from my evil, diabolical brother." He laughs. "You don't know how weird that sentence just was for me to say."

Dean's furious demeanor melts away. "Cas?" he asks, taken aback. "You've talked to Cas?"

"You call him Cas?" Damon asks. "How cute."

"Where is he?" Dean's tough act returns. "I've been praying to that dick for months." He looks around and spots Sam lying on the ground. "Sam," he says, alarmed.

"Your brother's fine," says Elena, standing up to put her hand on Dean's shoulder. "As soon as the vampire blood is out of your system, you're both free to go."

Dean glances down at Elena's hand on his shoulder before looking up at her face. He grins. "And who are you?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "Oh, _God_," he says. He pushes Dean and Elena apart. "Elena, go find something to do in the kitchen." Damon, ignoring Elena's loud protests, looks at Dean. "As for you, Fabio, sit down before you fall down. You look terrible."

Dean seems to be conflicted over whether he should punch Damon in the face or take his advice. Finally, Dean crumples down onto the couch. "If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you again," he says halfheartedly.

"Even though you killed me, I'm not really the vampire you need to be worrying about," says Damon, kicking Sam's limp foot. "Trust me." Damon wonders how Castiel is faring with Stefan. Damon had to stab his brother with a kitchen knife a couple of times before he was able to lock Stefan in one of the cells in the basement and rescue the Winchesters. Damon feels slightly uneasy about the whole ordeal. On one hand, should Castiel's angelic touch help Stefan, Damon will have his brother back and their lives in Mystic Falls will go back to normal. On the other hand, however, there is the fact that as soon as Stefan gets back on the wagon, Elena will come running into his arms, leaving Damon in the dust. As usual.

_Humans_, he thinks bitterly. _So fickle._ He glances at Dean and wonders if Castiel ever suffers from the same problem.

xxx

**Just so you know, since one of you messaged me about it, this story doesn't take place at any particular time. Elena's still human, obviously, but don't really worry about where it occurs in the Slavatore/Winchester timeline. Review! **


	4. Dear Castiel

Castiel rests his hand on top of Stefan's lolling head. He could do it; he could easily drain the life from the vampire in one fell swoop. But something stops him. Castiel muses it must be Damon; the angel saw desperation in the vampire in spite of the fact that Damon was flippant and rude. Damon reminds Castiel of Dean in that regard – hiding beneath a thick film of sarcasm. No, Castiel will not take Damon's brother away.

The angel closes his eyes, focusing on the turmoil within Stefan, and Castiel sees fire. Fire and shadows and anger. These are all the effects of the bloodlust running rampant in the vampire's long-dead veins. Stefan's lack of control is the very thing that poisons him. If Castiel walls the bloodlust up, it might resurface later with full-force. Walling it up isn't the solution. The vampire must be given control.

Castiel digs his fingertips into Stefan's skull. The pain draws Stefan from his stupor, and he releases an unearthly scream. There is a flash of white, and beams of light escape from Stefan's eye sockets. He begins screaming even louder, if that is possible, and he attempts to rip his chains from the wall. Then, Castiel withdraws his hand and the vampire falls limp. Stefan has been given power over blood – blood will be his servant, not his master.

xxx

Damon sits on Elena's front porch. He's had quite enough of the Winchester brothers for one night, thank you very much. Between Dean's food binging and nonstop attempted flirtation with Elena, and Sam's, well, _largeness_, Damon much prefers the solitude of the night.

"Why are you out here?" a voice growls.

Damon doesn't even have to look up to know who it is, but he does anyway. "Claustrophobic in there. Too much _stupid _under one roof," Damon tells Castiel. Damon leans back on the palms of his hands. "Finished with Stefan, I take it?"

"Your brother is resting now," Castiel replies. He stands rigidly in front of Damon with his arms pinned to his sides.

"But you didn't come just to tell me that," says Damon, frowning a little.

"I wanted to thank you."

"You already thanked me." Damon rolls his eyes. "Don't get mushy on me, Angel." He shudders. "Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

Castiel is silent for a few moments. He stares off to the right, as if deep in thought. Then, he says, "I feel the need to reiterate my gratitude." Castiel then explains how he cannot physically touch either of the Winchesters without facing Heaven's consequences. "That being said," Castiel continues, "your help is much appreciated. However, there is one thing I feel the need to look into…What do you know about Elena?"

"Elena?" Damon asks, perplexed. "Why? Jealous 'cause your boyfriend's been hitting on her?"

"Dean's extracurricular activities are none of my concerns. Anyway, we are not romantically involved."

"_Yet_, you somehow knew I was talking about Dean." Damon pretends to be puzzled. _"Fascinating."_ When the angel does not look amused by this, Damon waves it all away. "Take a load off, angel face, and tell me what's up with Elena."

"Thank you," Castiel says, sitting beside Damon on the porch. "When I touched her before, I sensed a supernatural presence about her."

"I guess the angels aren't as in the loop as they think they are," says Damon lightly. He proceeds to explain how Elena's the Doppelganger. However, Damon leaves his past with Katherine out of the conversation. Some things, angels need not know.

Castiel does not respond. He appears to either be thinking very intently about something, or else he's completely zoned out. Damon opens his mouth to say something along the lines of _Earth to Castiel?_ However, the front door opens, and yellow light spills out onto the porch.

_"Cas?"_ an incredulous voice asks.

Damon and Castiel turn their heads as Dean barrels toward them, reaching out a hand to get a hold on Castiel's coat. Damon, reacting quickly, flashes up and grabs Dean by the throat and throws him against the front of the house. Meanwhile, Castiel disappears with the sound of fluttering wings.

_"What did he say?"_ Dean demands, scrambling to his feet. He throws a punch at Damon, but Damon bats the human's hand away as if it were a butterfly.

"Don't see how that's any of your business," Damon finally replies, shrugging. He pushes past Dean to go through the front door. Dean grabs Damon by the back of his jacket to stop him, and Damon instantly spins around and shoves him against the doorframe. "I suggest," says the vampire, "that you keep your hands off me." Damon releases Dean and adds, "You're lucky you have an angel vouching for you, and you're even luckier that your angel was the one who brought me back."

"What did he say?" Dean repeats, massaging the back of his neck. He looks furious.

"Does it matter?" Damon quips. "He doesn't want to see you. Guess the whole human thing got old for him."

Dean follows Damon into the Gilbets' living room. Sam looks up at them from his spot on the couch; he looks annoyed. "Dean," says Sam, "maybe you should stop picking fights with vampires for a couple hours. At least until, you know, the vampire blood is out of our systems."

"When this vamp stops being a prick, maybe I'll consider it," Dean growls. He cuts Damon off from going into the kitchen. "Tell me what he said, or so help me _God_, I'll put you right back in the ground where you belong. Why is Cas avoiding me?"

"He's on probation," says Damon, nudging Dean aside. Damon would've preferred to keep lying to the human, but now Dean's become so insufferable that Damon just wants to be left alone. "Got his wings clipped, so to speak. Can't touch you or Goliath over there, or else _poof_." Damon wiggles his fingers. "Gone. Sent back to Heaven. Which is why I stopped you from grabbing him on the porch. Honestly, I don't see how going to Heaven is much of a punishment, but Cassy certainly isn't thrilled about it."

"Don't," says Dean, holding up a hand, "call him Cassy."

"So touchy."

"Don't antagonize him," Sam warns Damon. "Especially when it comes to Cas." Sam holds a hand up to the side of his mouth and adds in whisper, "They have a _special_ bond."

"The hell does that mean?" Dean snaps.

Sam raises his hands in surrender.

Damon points at Sam. "I think I like you, Goliath."

"But not like Dean likes Cas," Sam clarifies before laughing at the look of sheer repugnance on Dean's face.

Damon leaves the kitchen with two bottles of beer. Usually, Damon doesn't drink beer – he's more of a hard liquor kind of guy. However, as the Gilbert residence is suffering from an extreme lack of alcohol – just like the days of Prohibition, and God what an awful time _that_ was – Damon has to settle for some shitty piss water. Seating himself on the couch, Damon hands his extra bottle to Sam. "Bottom's up."

xxx

Later that night, after Dean, Sam, and Elena fall asleep in the upstairs bedrooms, Damon settles himself at the dining room table. He puts his feet up on the tabletop and stretches his arms out behind his head, thinking. He remembers how Dean told him he prayed to Castiel during his time spent in the basement with Stefan's torture routine. _Praying, _Damon muses. _I wonder if that works. _He decides to find out.

"Dear Castiel," Damon begins, clearing his throat. He looks around. Nothing. He continues, "I humbly request an audience with thee, O wing-ed creature from a realm most heavenly." He makes a show of pressing his hands together in prayer beneath his chin. There's still no response. Damon sighs. _This is stupid._

Then, Castiel steps out of the shadows.

"Shit," says Damon, impressed. "Did _not_ think that would work."

"Actually, I've been here for a while," says Castiel. He regards Damon with cool indifference. Then, he says, "That was a selfless thing you did back there."

Damon looks around, thinking Castiel _must _be talking to someone else. When Damon finds himself to be alone, he asks, "Who, _me?_ Selfless?"

"You knocked Dean over to stop him from touching me. I could have been stuck in Heaven. I would have been permanently out of your life," says Castiel. He adopts an expression of genuine interest. "Why did you do it?"

Damon resists the urge to vomit. "Are you this way with Dean?" he asks. "All sentimental about everything? Because if you are, we might as well call it quits. You brought me back, I helped save the wonder twins for you, you fixed my brother, and I stopped your boyfriend from setting the angel police after you. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. There's no need for this constant _thanking_ me thing. It gets old quick, and when things get old, that's when the Buffy brothers need to hightail it out of here before I rear my ugly head."

"I don't understand that reference," says Castiel.

_I give up,_ Damon thinks.

"However, in regard to your argument," Castiel continues, "what is your opinion on a little more back scratching?"

Damon cocks an eyebrow.

"Metaphorically speaking, of course," Castiel adds. "It is my goal to get in the good graces of my brothers in Heaven. If I can prove myself to them, it is possible that I'll be able to rejoin the Garrison."

"Blah, blah, blah," says Damon, turning his fingers into mocking hand puppets. "Get to the point, Angel."

"I think there may be…something with this Doppelganger girl. I sense that she is the key to something both terrible and great."

"Something like…?"

There is a pregnant pause. Then, Castiel – in a soft, serious voice – says, "The Apocalypse."

Damon snorts.

With hesitation, Castiel says, "My sense of humor isn't, perhaps, as in-tune as those of vampires. Then again, maybe the dilemma is that a threat of an apocalypse doesn't concern your kind. Whatever the case…What is it that you find so amusing?"

"Oh, nothing," says Damon, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. Does Castiel have to be overly dramatic about everything? "But yeah, sure. I'll help you avert the _Apocalypse_." Damon waves the idea away in his mind. After all, even given everything that's happened, what world-ending catastrophe could _possibly _happen in Mystic Falls?

xxx

**Famous last words, right? **

**I know this is a filler chapter and I haven't been updating frequently, but…forgive me? Oh, and review. I promise to be better at updating. **


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